Heroes and Cons
by Dorobouhime
Summary: Okay, so I wanted to name it "Soul Eater the Next Generation" but that was just ridiculous! Description: Mark has never really gotten along with his dad's side of the family, but things take a turn for the worst after one fateful evening...
1. Dinner with the Family

(Edit- OH MY GOD I can't believe I posted this without editing.. It was horrible! I'm sorry...)

"Please Dad! I have orchestra pracitice" Mark hoped that that word "practice" might get him somewhere but he could tell that his father was set.

"You can practice later, this dinner has been planned for more than a year now. It's not often that the family can get together like this."

"...", Mark stared fixedly at his feet, he knew this thing really shouldn't be a big deal, but as usual, he had that terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"_Mark." _Dad's voice took on that, disapointed, slightly hurt tone, "Everyone is really exited to see you." At that last part, Mark shivered.

"Are _they_ going to be there?"

"Who?"

"...You know.. The_ twins_."

"Of course," Dad gave him a confused look, like everyone else, he seemed to be unaware of terrifying nature of those two girls, "your cousins were especially exited to see you. What the problem?"

"The problem is I really can't go." Mark turned quickly and tried to retreat to his room. A strong hand gripped his shoulder.

"You're going. Its non-negotiable." and from there on out, it wasn't.

And that was why Mark was now sitting with his parents, in his second-best tux in the best restaurant in town waiting for the other contingent to arrive. He sighed out loud, earning a raised eyebrow and tried to make the best of it. "Is Uncle Soul coming?"

"Of course he is!" Mom piped up with her own "make the best of it" voice, her's was a lot more sugary, though he knew she had the same issues he did with dad's siblings, "He's bringing that girl along too right?" She touched dad's shoulder, "What was her name? Mariah?"

"Maka." Dad replied, knowing what was probably coming next.

"Oh, right, are they married yet?"

"Um, no." Mom asked the same question every time the topic of Uncle Soul and his roommate popped up. The two always seemed really close, but it wasn't even confirmed that they were dating.

"Oh, I see. It's really a shame..."

Dad replied with agreement like noises and Mark took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Uncle soul wasn't too terrifying... at least, he never acted scary... Though, he was just so cool that it was impossible not to be intimidated. But Mark could handle that, a lot of things intimidated him, and none of them were quite as interesting or inspiring as Uncle Soul. That was at least something to look forward to...

"WES!" Someone called excitedly from the front the front of the restaurant. The very nature of that voice jarred Mark right out of his momentary optimism

Standing right in front of the Maitredee, waving like an over-enthused grade-schooler was a woman of considerable beauty and style. She was wearing a long black cocktail dress and was adorned with what had to be thousands of dollars worth of jet black jewelry. On some it would have looked gawdy, but as anyone would have agreed, Aunt Heart looked like had had been born to wear it, just as she looked like she had been born to wear just about anything else. She looked so young and charismatic that Mark marveled at the fact that this woman had two daughters his own age. Though, beyond that gorgeous image, irrational fear started to gather in the pit of his stomach. Something intangible rushed into the room along with that elegantly clad figure and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He had to gulp down the urge to run away.

Dad stood and greeted his younger sister as she hurriedly made her way over. Mark noticed that she was alone. Which was strange since everyone usually showed up to these things in a group, Dad said it was because they all worked for the same company.

"It's lovely to see you all!" Everyone was exchanging hugs and greetings. Mark slowly got to his feet knowing that there would be trouble if he didn't act at least a little sociable. "Mark! You look more like your father every time I see you. Still playing the Cello?" Auntie Heart smelled like cinnamon and for some reason... gunpowder? He didn't want to know so he just gave her a hug and sat back down.

His Aunt's smile looked a bit more forced than usual but he paid it no mind as the four of them sat down again. "Sorry I'm the only one here. Everyone was waylaid; they should be here in a few minutes..."

"What happened?" Mom sounded both affronted and morbidly interested as she asked the question. This was an unusual development when it came to Dad's family, it was a rare crack in their usual facade...

"Um, The car broke down." Aunt heart replied a bit too quickly and looked shiftily behind her. There was a shift in that intangible force and Mark knew she was lying, and that she was afraid, but why?

"Oh dear, how terrible..." Mom had just started when a large group came running in.

"Oh! There they are now!" Auntie Heart was up again in an instant and Mark's inexplicable insight was gone. She made a beeline for two slight, dark-haired forms. So the twins HAD come... Oh joy. Mark's heart was beating a mile a minute as the group approached. He kept his eyes on the two girls as the clamor of everyone else arriving surrounded him. He watched his Aunt, strangely emotional, as she bent down to the level of her daughters, touching their faces, turning them from side to side and finally pulling them into an embrace. Was that a tear she was wiping? Her eye was probably just itchy from all that mascara right? Right?

"Terribly sorry we're late..." The tall, thin man that was the twin's father started. Mark didn't like to think about his name because it just suited him too well.

"The bridge was closed-" Uncle Soul finished.

"There was work to do-" Maka also finished.

"I was folding laundry-" Uncle Death finished his own sentence and everyone looked at one another sheepishly. Mark looked away before he was noticed, that feeling was so strong now that he felt nauseous.

"COUSIN MARK COUSIN MARK! GUESS WHAT!" Mark's own anonymity was strangled when his neck faced a similar experience. He closed his eyes tightly; his chair fell backward as he was dragged down from behind. When the world stopped moving and got a bit quieter he slowly opened his eyes. While he was still hoping that things were just a bad dream he did not seem to be that fortunate.

Looking down from above were two pairs of identical brown eyes on two porcelain-colored faces. Each one had a perfectly quaffed night-black bob that was curly on one side and straight on the other. The straight side was cut shorter so that each one had a long dark curl trailing down their cheek. It emphasized that one was a perfect mirror image of the other, though their personalities were far from the same.

The older one was on the right and her name was "Grim", she was quiet, critical and frightening. The one on the left was "Reaper", she was loud, violent, and also frightening.

There were a few very long moments of recognition, in which Mark blinked a lot and hoped they would disappear. Then the right side of the image flew into motion. "MARK! GUESS WHAT!" Reaper grabbed his arm and yanked him up again, Grim helped with the chair.

"What."

"It's a _secret_." She went from loudly yelling from a few feet away to whispering from two inches.

"Okay..."

"Me and Grim got KIDNa-ffshhed"

"Reaper, shut up." Grim had clamped a hand over her sister's mouth, "Mom said not to tell."

"But! It's Cousin Mark!"

"You especially can't tell him."

"But it was so COOL!~"

"Yes, it was terribly and inexhaustably cool, but Mark is a wimpy civilian with the soul-perception of an orange. He'll think we're freaks, so be quiet."

Mark wasn't sure what he thought about being called a "wimpy civilian with the whatever-she-said of an orange" and he could easily say that he thought his cousins were full-fledged freaks. But … what on earth was cool and why didn't he get to know? He started to open his mouth to ask, but then thought better of it. With those two it might just be some freakish ghost story about a monster guy with three heads that liked devouring the souls of artists... all topped with a bunch of ridiculous lies about how their dad had defeated him with his flying skateboard. The creepiest part was the way they told the story; so honestly that Mark's lie-dar wasn't tripped. And then there were the hallucinations... he bit his tongue so hard that he tasted blood. "_Just survive for six courses_." He told himself, "_Just survive for six courses and you can go back to your normal life."_

Mark eyed the rest of the table while the twins continued to bicker off to his right, it really wasn't just those two who were strange. Of the nine people not including him, the only people who felt "normal" were his parents. Though no one but the twins ever tortured him like that...

They were all scary though, It wasn't that they were bad, they were all great people just... maybe too great? Too attractive, too fast, yet too laid back, too in sync with each other? Mark could point out the specific natures of each individual, but they all seemed joined by an immense strength that morphed to project each nature. It was unnatural, dangerous beyond the dangers of nature and Mark couldn't trust it.

He scanned their faces; it was a feeling that he tried to forget about in the long breaks between these gatherings, the feeling like he was surrounded by other-worldly beings. He knew mom felt it too, her rosy cheeks a little paler than normal.

He accidently caught someone's eye, Uncle Soul grinned, showing his uncannily sharp teeth and as usual seeming to tap directly into an endless internal reservoir of coolness. Mark wished he could have just a drop of that reservoir. Unfortunately, being "cool" meant you had to make everything seem easy. Not really something that came easy to Mark...

"How've you been?"

"I-I've been great!" Mark jumped to reply, and immediately felt like he had done so a bit too quickly. "I, uh, mean yeah. Some stuff is lame though...", He gave his impression of what he thought a smirk might look like, he knew he probably still looked like an idiot, but at least he was trying. Though Uncle Soul was as scary as the rest of them, he was by far Mark's favorite relative and someone whose opinion he respected. He never said anything freakish and he was the most amazing musician Mark had ever seen, probably the best pianist in the whole world...

"The twins picking on you again?"

"Uh, yeah, but its no big deal."

"That's more than I can say..." Uncle Soul laughed and ran a hand through his white hair, "Those two are nothing but trouble. But I hope you know they don't mean any harm."

"Uh, yeah..." Mark was sure that his uncle probably knew what he was talking about... It didn't really change his opinion though. Mark fell silent again as the first course arrived.

Plates of salad were set out in front of everyone, and Mark didn't hesitate to take a bite, he was actually starving now that he thought about it. Not to mention the food was great...

"Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen," The Chef, a stuffy looking man with a waxed mustache, had emerged to explain his creation, Mark looked up and a dizzy sensation washed over his psyche. His eyes locked with the eyes of the "chef" and he knew that the waxed mustache, along with the skin underneath was nothing but a mask. Mark stayed still, petrified, wondering if anyone noticed. He watched the guise melt away and the creature continued to speak.

"It's time to die!~ Shibusen scum!"

(And there we are!~ sorry about all the OCs... its just what I do.)


	2. Stylish Hallucinations

((Chapter two Go! ))

The conveining explosion was rather beyond description... There were people yelling, and some of that yelling seemed like it might be important. But everything fell swiftly silent as his senses just gave out due to overstimulation. Before he knew it someone was dragging him away... but his body just didn't want to move...

...

"What a wimp, did he really faint for something as weak as that?"

"Yeah I guess he did! Haha!"

Mark felt a cool figertip poke the side of his face, but he didn't move, those voices were familiar enough. He could feel cold stone on his back, though his head was laying on something soft...

"Don't do that, girls. He's probably hurt... Civilians aren't really used to that stuff you know." A new female voice spoke up, "Are you sure that nothing touched him? His wavelength looks shaky." A warm hand brushed over his forehead, the voice was kind of close..."

"No, nothing touched him, Mom told us to take him and run and we did."

"Yeah! We didn't even get to fight." Fight? No, not fighting... Mark bit his tounge, fighting was often mentioned during... _the hallucinations. _Mark twitched involuntarily.

"Oh! I think he's waking up! Come on little civilian, open your eyes..." Someone was patting his head.

"You know Kuro, he's not a puppy..."

"But he is adorable isn't he?" Mark flinched as the mystery third girl manhandled his cheeks. "I wish my brother was this cute!~"

"-Not really.~"

"-He looks like a loser to us."

"Oh you guys... don't be so mean...", A girl thought he was cute AND was willing to speak against the twins? Well maybe that was a reason to open his eyes... A very good reason.. but...

After a few moments of internal conlict, Mark's eyes somehow pried themselves open. Oh fuck, he shouldn't have done that... Respectable people DID NOT have blue hair. And the beautiful, amber-eyed angel that he now locked eyes with had hair that was decidedly blue. Or maybe it was a pale teal.. but... THAT WAS IRRELEVANT!

"Oh hi there!~ Welcome to the world of the liviiing~!" The blue haired girl smiled brightly and gave an expansive gesture. Mark squinted at the gesture from what he perceived to be a very strange angle, and a strange angle it was; the soft thing that had been propping his head up this whole time was miss blue haired hallucination's lap.

He gritted his teeth and took note of the undeniably creepy surroundings, an austere room with cold stone structures and misty looking walls. Grim and Reaper were perched on a blocky-looking chair not too far away. His heart twisted in his chest as he got a good look at them. Yes, this was a hallucination, they had _hallucination hair._ Well, acctually, the hair wasn't from previous hallucinations, but it wasn't normal. It was still the same shape as before, but now each girl had three distinct stripes over each bang which melded into each long curl, turning it white.

"Looks like the world of the dead to me..." Mark replied plainly as he sat up, he didn't let the fear into his voice be he was ready to run the first chance he got. The twins smiled and he noticed that they also had two-tone eyes. One red and one gold, they were still mirror images of one another.

"It's just dad's office~!" Reaper swung her legs back and fourth, ruining the mirrored effect, Grim crossed her arms and gave her sister a look.

"You know, you could TRY to make up a convicing lie once in a while and did you absolutely HAVE TO ruin our pose... It looked so cool."

"But why lie? Normal offices don't look like this. Mark isn't an idiot, neechan..."

"Maybe he is."

"Um hey... I''m right here..."

"We know." The twins replied in unison and turned to the other girl, "What exactly are we supposed to do now anyway?"

"Well..." BHG smiled tranquilly but didn't seem to know for sure, "Well I guess we should wait for further instructions."

Grim sighed, "Do we have to wait in here?"

"This chair hurts our butt!" Reaper backed her up.

"uhm yeah, I think so since... YOU KNOW" The older looking girl made a not so surreptitious gesture towards the back of Mark's head.

"Yeah, because he might see the oh-so-classified hallways and lecture halls."

"Hehe Or worse! He'll gain the secret knowledge written on all the mighty CHALK BOARDS."

As the sarcasm continued BHG's face grew more serious. Mark watched as she seemed to reach a certain point. He calmed down a bit, he could tell what was comming and he couldn't say he minded it.

"Listen here you two! I am not risking a security breach, just because you two can't sit for twenty minutes in an office that is going to be your someday anyway!" She glared and the twins backed down."Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." Grim looked a bit embarassed.

"Kuro-chaaann~! Don't be so scary!" Reaper looked like she was about to cry. Mark Just watched the exchange take place, this hallucination was decidedly strange, but not threatening this time. No one had turned into a giant scythe or come crawling out of a mirror and there didn't seem to be any monsters, just some odd coloring. And outside of the blue hair, this Kuro girl seemed pretty cool... Maybe it was best to just relax and wait until someone woke him up...

"Though~! I don't think it would hurt if I introduced myself." Kuro turned to Mark and held out her hand, "The name's Kageboshi Kuroboshi, but if that's too much of a mouthful you can call me Kuro!"

"Uh- Nice to meet you." Mark shook her hand, "I'm Mark Evans, uh, you can call me, um, Mark." He could feel his face turning red, she had a very direct gaze and a very bright, messy feeling surrounding her. It was nice.

"You forgot Xavier."

"Yeah! Having a middle name like that makes you sound a hundred and fourty-two percent more pretentious~!" Grim and Reaper were at his shoulders seemingly instantly. "Chicks dig that!" Reaper whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear. It surprised him how good she was at picking up people's emotions and then making them completely awkward.

"You know some personal space would be nice!", Mark said loudly, hoping it would drown out Reaper's clod-footed comment, but his face had turned the color of a cherry.

"What's the big deal?" Reaper continued to talk, "It not like I was specifically refering to Kuro or anything. I mean, she's kind of out of your league, no offense. But she probably digs pretentiousness too, too bad you missed your oppourtunity, cuz!"

The look on Marks face was one of pure hatred. He kept his mouth shut and began to count to ten.

"Ah! Scary!" Reaper hid behind her sister, looking innocent and hurt.

"Uh~" Kuroboshi began, "Lets all calm down a bit okay." she put a hand on Mark and he immediately felt calm again, "We'll probably get some orders soon so lets just wait a bit more..."

"What do you mean by 'orders' anyway?" Mark's new found calmness and acceptance of this delusional situation gave him the confidence to get a few questions out of the way. "This isn't the miliitary..."

"Um, well not exactly..." Kuro looked off to the side, "But... um..."

"ffffhhzzzt... Come in, come in!" All four of them were momentarily taken by surprise as a crackly light poured in from a rectangular stone accross from the chair. It was accompanied by a disembobdied voice.

"Orders!" Kuro was moving accross the room at the first bit of static. The moment her hand left his shoulder all of Mark's knawing anxiety came rushing back, but this time it was accompanied by that same dizzy out of control feeling, like the fake chef in the restraunt. He clenched his fists and got as far away from that mirror as he could, he may or may not have also assumed the fetal position and hid, but the long and short of it was that something wasn't right.

"ffhzt-iisan? Are you there? fssshhhzzzzt-really badfsshzt-africa's toast and they're moving into Europe." Mark looked away but the voice's message was clear enough.

"Is that Chisa-sensei! Can you two improve the reception?" Kuro sounded concerned but cool-headed.

"We can certainly try." The reply could have been Grim or Reaper, either way they sounded dead serious.

As often was the case during these times, morbid curiosity drew Mark to lift his head just a few inches above his hands. He couldn't see the front of the device with which they were communicating so he scuttled a few feet to his right, going sideways on his hands and knees.

He watched silently as the twins each took a place on either side of what must have been a mirror. They always did odd things with mirrors...

Kuroboshi waited anxiously while the girls seemed to concentrate. They each rested the flats of their palms on the static-ridden glass.

The image slowly grew clearer and Mark watched the face of a slender woman materialize from the static. "Hello? Hello?" He recognized her as the one aunt that hadn't been able to make it to dinner. One saw the recognition on her face as her image became clearer, maybe the image on the other side had become clearer too.

"Chisa-sensei! It's Kuro here and the twins and their cousin... Mr. Death is out right now." She looked nervous, unable to give a proper answer to a call that was obviously made in desperation.

"Is there anyone else around?"

"Not in here but-"

"Get out of that room and put the school on high alert, tell all the teachers to come here for a breifing within twenty minutes and as leader of Spartoi, I'll trust you and your team to gaurd Shibusen's perimeter."

"Got it."

"And tell the twins to stay in here so that I can remain in contact until we hear from my brother."

"Right." She nodded but didn't have to relay the infomation to the twins. Mark watched in horror. It seemed that there was some kind of war on and it seemed like this side might be losing it.


	3. Costume party!

(sorry this fic is so slow... I swear it'll pick up soon XD)

Mark sat alone in the deserted living room. He hadn't bothered to turn on any lights or look out any windows. As far as he was concerned, this place didn't exist. It was nothing but an illusion created by his own brilliant, but momentarily overwrought, psyche. He wondered what exactly had caused this. Maybe he was nervous about final exams. They weren't for another couple months but they drove some people crazy right? He usually called those people idiots, but maybe it wasn't a sign of weak-mindedness, maybe finals just naturally made you go crazy? Otherwise, he was being held hostage by some crazy vigilante military organization that communicated primarily through mirrors and was staffed by large portions of dad's side of the family... But he didn't need to think about that because he was surely crazy from exam pressure. He had gotten an A- on his last math test after all...

What he found most distressing was the fact that unlike his previous unwelcome forays into insanity, this one was lasting for a really long time and, to a certain extent, had a very linear plot. It was nothing like the glimpses of things that he wished he could unsee, or thing that just didn't make sense. Those ones were over quick; this one was still going and wasn't showing signs of letting up.

After they had talked with Aunt Chisa in the mirror, Kuro had taken him by the hand and lead him through a bunch of hallways that looked oddly like the halls of a private school. They then reached a wing that had said "Teacher Dormitories". She'd made a beeline for number 96, unlocked the door, shoved him in, and given him the most angelic of angelic smiles while she told him to make himself at home and that he better take off his shoes. After that she'd closed the door behind her and disappeared.

Mark had immediately lay on the floor and tried to fall asleep in the hope it would bring him back around, but he only woke up more as he lay in the dark. After a while he started to wonder about his surroundings and thought that maybe he should find the light swich or something.

When Mark stood on shaky legs and took a step forward, he collided with something. After what may or may not have been an amazingly feminine scream and a lot of flailing in the dark, be ascertained that he had indeed just run into a low-hanging light fixture. He then turned it on.

There wasn't terribly much to see with the light on; a TV on a stand, what looked to him to be a coffee table and one, two, three, four cushions. It looked sort of like pictures he'd seen of houses in Japan. An entryway to the side lead to a clean, cute-looking Kitchen and there were a number of other rooms off of the main one that he chose not to explore. One might have thought themselves to be in a sort-of normal house.

Mark did the only sensible thing, pile up all four of the cushions and try harder to go to sleep. Surprisingly, he had more success this time.

…..

"What? No way! I'm not sharing my room!" a young male voice was saying fervently as Mark began to drift awake.

"Please don't be like that, Masa-kun... This boy has had it really rough and Mr. Death asked us to take him in until he can go home. It won't be so bad, you might even get to make a new friend!"

"But can't he sleep somewhere else?"

"No. He cannot."

"Whatever." Someone stomped off and Mark slowly opened his eyes. Two things were apparent, he wasn't out of Crazyville yet and he was no longer alone. A tallish dark haired woman was standing in the door way of the living room area. Her back was facing him so Mark got a few seconds to gawk at her odd, Ninja-like garb.

Her shoulders drooped as she let out a long and somewhat depressed sigh. Mark quickly shut his eyes and feigned sleep as he felt her attention turn. A few light footsteps crossed the room to where he lay "passed out" he felt the small shift in weight and she sat down on the floor next to him.

"Um, Mark-san," She said his name with the tentativeness of one who had learned it from another source. The gentle pat on his shoulder reminded him of the last time he had been awakened in recent memory. "Please wake up..."

Mark wasn't sure if her soft voice would have done any good had he been asleep for real, but he slowly opened his eyes anyway. Now that really was uncanny, the face he met as he opened his eyes this time looked quite a bit like Kuro. Well, maybe it was that Kuro looked like this woman, since she was obviously older and despite the ninja getup had much more acceptable coloring.

"Uh-" Mark didn't really have much to say but he felt like staying quiet would have been impolite.

"Oh good, You're awake..." She said with an almost relieved smile, but Mark watched that smile grow nervous as what she was going to say next started to process. She felt overwhelmed, but by what?

"Welcome to the Kageboshi household," she said formally with a little bow, "My name is Kageboshi Tsubaki, I apologize deeply for your sudden arrival, and lack of hospitality on the part of my daughter, she is terribly flighty as you might have noticed. I am also terribly sorry that my husband and son could not be here to greet you either, but they both look forward to meeting you."

"Uh, no! Kuro was very, um, nice and um..." Mark sat up, reacting to her formality, but not really knowing how to respond. He wasn't sure how he felt about random people he didn't know wanting to meet him, and he got the distinct feeling that it was at least partially a lie.

"That's very kind of you to say." Kuro's mom said with a smile.

"Not really-" Mark began, "But, um, wha—"

"You must be so tired!" She hopped into action with slightly forced energy before Mark could get a word in, "Let's get you cleaned up and fed!

After that, there wasn't much conversation as Mark was sweetly coerced into a japanese-style bathroom and left to wash up. When he emerged he found that his dirty tux had disappeared and been replaced by a clean set of clothes that fit Mark well. The clothes looked a bit too flashy-hipster for his taste, but being the fastidious person that he was, he was very grateful to be clean, even if he was still trapped in a freakish dream.

He was drawn back out into the living room, by the smell of something delicious. Laid out on the coffee table in the main room, was a immaculately prepared dinner of grilled steak, rice, soup, salad, stewed vegetables and some pickle-like dishes that Mark couldn't name. Kuro's mom emerged from the kitchen and ushered him to the table, pouring both of them some tea and sitting down across from him.

The food was so good and Mark was so hungry that he was able to ignor the awkwardness of someone watching him eat. He just thanked her repeatedly and ate as slowly as he could manage, Kuro's mom had even had the foresight to give him a fork, insead of the chopsticks that he suspected the family used on a daily basis.

Though, once the meal came to a close and he was no longer feeling as if he was starving to death, Mark's attention started to drift back to its usual state of self-consciousness. He became fully aware of the way the air around then was charged. The apartment was small but just beyond its walls her could feel the presence of others, some smallish and normal, others big and powerful, though all of them were unusual in some way.

Kuro's mom, he realized was one of those powerful people, but her nature had made it less noticeable right off the bat. Just a while ago, this would have sent him around the bend, but now he was surprised at his own apathy. Maybe it was because she was so innately calm…

"So," He said asking a question to fill the silence. Pretty sure he wouldn't get a straight answer but comfortable enough to venture. "Um," he almost called the lady that sat across him "Kuro's mom" but stopped short since that was totally rude, "Mrs. Kageboshi-"

"Oh, just call me Tsubaki-sensei." She said with a serene smile. So she was a teacher? Weird... Everyone had called Aunt Chisa "Chisa-sensei" as well, not to mention the twins' sarcastic comments about lecture halls and chalk boards

"Tsubaki-sensei, if you dont mind me asking," He kept his voice calm though, now that he thought about the question he felt like he didn't want to know the answer, but he was tired of being led around like a cow. "Where am I and what on is going on?" As he looked back upon the shuffle that had brought him here, he realized that he had no idea where his parents were and if they were alright. A lump rose in his throat, but he buckled down.

"Ah well," she looked flustered at his directness, "It's a bit of a long story, and I'm afraid that it would be rather hard for you to believe, but please relax and know that you are quite safe."

"But what about my parents?" he said softly. Whether this was a dream or not, it wasn't going away. "What was that thing that attacked us at the restaurant? It looks like I'm going to have to have a more open mind whether I like it or not..."

Tsubaki-sensei gave him an understanding smile and took his hand in a motherly way.

"It was nothing but a corrupted soul that wished to create chaos. I'm sure your parents are perfectly fine, it's just that, in light of certain matters, we've opted to play it safe."

"What matters?" Nothing was making sense, but only because he was being given the most vague answers possible. He was willfully choosing to accept this hallucination as reality; it was failing to give him anything to go on.

"I'm sorry, but-"

All of a sudden Mark could feel the oddest energy yet just outside the confines of the apartment. It beat with the same inhuman sort of rhythm that had stuck to everything dangerous thus far. Mark tensed, not quite threatened, but ready to fight.

When there was a frenzied knock at the door he was surprised by her calm, almost happy manner as she excused herself to go answer the door. He shivered; did she know what was coming? He was sure that Tsubaki-sensei was probably just as sensitive as he was and was obviously not an idiot, but he was once again gripped by his fear of the unknown.

He heard the echo of a new female voice in the entryway and was surprised when Tsubaki-sensei returned, flanked by a petite woman that looked to be in her early twenties. She wore a black dress and hat that looked like they had come straight out of a Halloween catalogue. Maybe today there was some kind of costume party. That would explain a lot…

"Oh! So this is the kid!" she said with careless smile, she had sharp reddish-brown eyes and a straight brown bob. He guessed that she was average looking, but something behind her eyes made her remarkable in an intangible way.

"Angela-" Tsubaki-sensei started in a hushed admonishment and then whispered in her ear for a while. The young woman listened respectfully, though the smirk never left her eyes.

"Okay, Okay... I get it..." She sighed aloud and all of a sudden the weird energy was gone, replaced by something that felt like she could have been one of Mark's classmates at school. She held up her empty palms to the older woman in a way that said "Now what?".

"Much better." Tsubaki-sensei said with a smile. Mark was still lost.

"Yeah, well, I came because you're needed for a mission. Blackstar sent me. I'm supposed to, you know," She nodded over to Mark, "Babysit." Wow, such tact, he was starting to get a feel for the culture around here. Save for for Tsubaki-sensei...

"Well," Mark's afore-mentioned hostess looked just about as nervous as he was feeling, he quietly tried to appeal, but her eyes never passed over his face. "I guess if I'm needed for a mission..."

"You really are." Angela crossed her arms and her gaze held momentary brevity. Mark was getting tired of all of these weirdoes exchanging meaningful looks over his head. It was impossible for him not to get suspicious.

"Alright..." Tsubaki-sensei wasted no time after that, "Mark-san, please forgive me for this sudden departure, but this is Angela, a dear friend of the family. She will be looking after you from now on." Angela grinned and gave him a friendly wave, it looked genuine and sweet, but Mark couldn't shake the memory of that chaotic feeling.

There was a long, appraising, silence once Tsubaki-sensei was gone. He met Angela's straightforward stare with the best return look he could muster. She really seemed normal now, but…

"Hmm...Why are YOU so suspicious?" she said, bemused, but a little defensive like was used to reactions like that. Mark's suspicious stare merely deepened. He stiffened when she came forward and sat down across from him at the table, her eyes never leaving his face. She bobbed her head from side to side and seemed amused when Mark's gaze followed her.

All of a sudden, she took a deep breath and the energy became apparent again. It didn't flow back into the room so much as Mark realized that it had been there all along, somehow covered up. He gulped and jumped back of his own accord.

"Ahha! You noticed that!" The young woman pointed at him as if she's just solved the most interesting of puzzles. "I guess you have more sensitivity that everyone's giving you credit for~" She smiled brightly but deflated a bit when Mark remained petrified where he sat. She focused again and the energy lessened, but now that Mark had a handle on its presence, it tugged at the corners of his mind.

Silence dragged on as she seemed to wait for Mark to say something. Mark avoided saying anything because he didn't want to piss her off by saying something like "What are you?" or the never popular "Get away from me, freak!" Angela stared into his eyes for a long time and seemed to reach a conclusion.

"In case you were wondering, I'm a witch." She said plainly and Mark's inner reaction was, "oh of course you are!". She certainly looked the part with that Halloween-store getup. But after that initial reaction he realized that she was completely serious. What the hell was he supposed to say to that! Witches were characters in fantasy stories, reacting to such a plainly stated impossibility was not part of his playbook.

"Well," Mark said in response trying to muster as much composure as possible, this wasn't so bad, just kind of like that time he went to France for the summer. People thought he was an idiot, but he could always play the dumb foreigner card. Maybe it would serve him here. "Where I come from, that is rather unusual. Please explain."

"Well, I am a female born with superhuman powers that lean towards the destructive." She smiled.

"I see." that at least fit Mark's known definition of a witch. It was actually the first straight answer he'd gotten from anyone.

"Though, you obviously have the soul perception to notice, so I'm not sure why you need it explained." she said with a bit of an eye-roll. There was that word again! Grim had called him a "wimpy civilian with the soul perception of an orange" whatever that meant.

"Um, that isn't the first time I've heard that word, 'soul perception', but I honestly have no idea what it means."

"Really!" She laughed, "I'd heard that you weren't enrolled at Shibusen, but you really grew up under a rock didn't you!"

Mark would have normally taken offense at being called someone who lived under a rock. But at this point he was beginning to feel that way himself. So he just nodded a bit sheepishly and let her continue.

"Uh, well, I don't really understand soul perception either, but it's like the mental power that meisters and weapons use to read the world around them. You can, like, figure out people's core personalities and power levels just by sort of reaching out with your mind..." She punctuated her explanation with expansive gestures and finished by raising an eyebrow in Mark's direction, "Is that ringing any bells?"

There was a long moment of contemplation, "Yes... it is..."


	4. Super Spicy!

"I guess… It looks kinda like red jello… but like, floating." Angela explained.

"And …that is eaten?" Mark said slowly, confirming what she had said previously in the conversation. He wore a look of rapt attention, feeling very confused, but also intrigued. Though, he wasn't entirely sure that Angela wasn't pulling his leg, telling him ridiculous things that he couldn't even begin to believe and continuing at a pace he couldn't really follow.

"Like. This. Chip." The young witch said in reply, devouring a potato chip in one bite.

"That weird…" Mark shuddered slightly at the idea of an evil soul being an edible commodity.

"I know right?", Angela said between another bite, "But it's the easiest way to imbue it's power, weapons are basically useless if they don't take at least ninety-nine. Some people take them other ways too, it's easy for weapons with a gun form to just absorb them through their clip, and some people have the control over their wavelength to just absorb it through the skin. That's what I was told anyway."

"Does it... Taste like anything?" There no way that this stuff could have been true, but on the grand scale of things Mark had to admit that this information was pretty interesting. Not to mention Angela herself was funny and knew where the Kageboshi family kept their snacks. Mark was starting to relax just the slightest as he enjoyed cola and a wide array of salty junk food. He wasn't normally allowed to eat this stuff at home, but of course that made it all the more delicious.

"Pshuu~ How would I know?" Angela shrugged, holding two potato chips between her lips as if she had a duck bill. "I'm just part of the food chain."

"Huh?" Mark nodded slowly, "What do you mean by-"

"-I'm sick of this conversion now!" The young witch enhaled the chips with a loud crunch and suddenly radiated some of that pulsing chaos from before. Mark shrunk back, caught off guard by her sudden change in emotions. The look on her face first started as anger but faded to fear and something a bit painful. It was in the course of a split second, but Mark could see. There was a long moment as he couldn't think of anything to say.

"So what kinda stuff goes on where you're from?" Angela started again as sunny as before, To Mark, it almost seemed like some sort of reset button had been pressed on the atmosphere, though he felt awkward going on as if nothing had happened.

"Uh, not much. Normal things. I go to class and practice the cello. My life is pretty dull but uh I-I guess..." Mark made sure to the leave out the "and I like it that way" part, just because it was true didn't mean he needed to be rude.

Angela laughed loudly at this statement, kindly ignoring his rough sentence ender. As her infectious laughter died, down Mark couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Don't be so sure that your life has the cornerstone on normalcy and dullness. You might be surprised by this, but those same things go on on a daily basis here at Shibusen. Maybe not so much cello practicing but, by my standards, it's dull here too."

"I would propose that our standards for dullness are wildly different." He replied with a slight frown.

"Whatever you say kiddo, but I get the feeling that you're gonna be here long enough to make that judgement for yourself~" There was a long silence before Mark heard the sound of a latch click in the entryway and felt the presence of another being enter his periphery. Angela glanced over her shoulder and yawned widely. "Well that's my cue to get going~ I got lots of important stuff to do, you know~" She winked at Mark and skipped to her feet, not offering even a second glance as she exited the small apartment. "I'll leave the rest to you!" he heard her say to someone unseen and she was replied to with a sullen and somewhat familiar-sounding "Rest of WHAT!" Marks stomach turned as he got the feeling that he was being abandoned once again.

The young cellist was not given the time to reflect on the foreboding statement with which Angela had left him, not that he would have wanted to dwell on it anyway, though he might have enjoyed a bit of general silence…

"Oh. You're still here." Mark looked up from the table to find himself face to face with a boy around his own age. He had black hair, pale skin and eyes that skirted the line between purple and red. He was slightly taller and much more muscular than Mark who immediately recognized the flashy urban looking way he dressed from the clothes he was presently in the process of wearing. While he put off a feeling a roughness his features looked noble and delicate. Mark couldn't really get a good read on the guy otherwise. Only that he seemed kinda pissed off.

"Uh- I suppose I am." Mark faltered at first but met his eyes. He may have been terrified of the supernatural, but bullies were a totally different story. He could tell from the look on his face that he followed the same ancient playbook that so many less intelligent, easily threatened and generally unimaginative people had also used throughout Mark's own school life. The only real way to get through it was to face them head on. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Yeah, There is a problem~" The other boy stepped forward and leaned down into his personal space, "You're sitting in my seat, and wearing my favorite T-shirt and it makes you look like even more of a scrawny loser." he gave Mark an intimidating look that would have been at home on the face of a terrifying street thug, though the words that came out of his mouth sounded more like the tantrum of a jealous five-year-old. Mar found himself caught very solidly between being nervous and amused. He watched the boy's purple eyes wander to the snacks on the table the slowly fixed on a small piece of orange colored shrapnel resting next to mark's elbow. His expression grew surprised and then even darker

"Y-You... YOU- YOU ATE THEM! YOU ATE MY SUPER SPICYBLAST PRETZEL STICKS!" he snatched up the plastic wrapping that now only contained fluorescent red powder. Mark looked up at his contemporary in surprise, he had been quite happy to find that the Kageboshi's had a supply of a both familiar and sought after snack from the world he considered normal. When Angela had brought out the basket full of brightly packaged goods and said that they were fair game Mark had made short work of the comparatively small bag. If he had known otherwise….

"Ah-" He could not think of something to say. No matter how one sliced it, he had unwittingly committed a very serious crime, one naturally deserving of rage. If someone had done the same to him he also would have been mad. And as he also knew, to speak any excuse would only deepen the soul-crushing rage of having looked forward to eating something and finding that it had been devoured by another. Bully or not this was something where Mark had to accept blame… "I-" he stumbled over his words trying to quickly think of something more to say to halt the swiftly moving wildfire, "I am truly sorry." he said with genuine brevity, "All I can do is ask for your forgiveness" He bowed his head slightly and awaited a response.

"YOU SNIVELING LITTLE LOSER-" Mark stiffened as a a rough hand grabbed him by the back of the collar, turning his insides to scrambled eggs as he was shaken back and fourth at some speed, "HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME EXCUSES ABOUT HOW YOU DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS MINE! WHY I OUGHTTA SLICE YOUR HEAD- Wait what?" The shaking paused slightly as Marks words seemed to register though it was back at full speed quite shortly, "WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU LITTLE TWERP!"

It was a little difficult for Mark to respond given the fact that his entire upper torso felt like it had gotten stuck in the dryer but he managed, trying to not bite off his own tongue in the process.

"I. SAID. THAT. IWASSORRY. FOR. EATING. YOUR. SNACKS. STOPSHAKINGME!" Mark was immediately released, sending the side of his face directly into the ground. Painful as it was, he was sort of used to this kind of thing by now…

"HN." Mark stayed down, feeling his new tormentor's eyes staring down at him. He seemed to be a bit flummoxed by the idea of Mark responding with something other than some lame excuse, he could feel his somewhat dim mental struggle flicking back and fourth in the air around them. "Don't think I'll forgive you just for some non-half-assed apology, but I guess I won't cut your head off or whatever." He heard some footsteps leave the room towards the kitchen.

Mark slowly sat up, letting the vertigo subside, he hoped that that was the last time be would find his face in close acquaintance to the tatami mats, but wasn't feeling like that would be the case...

When the other boy returned he had a soda which he opened and proceeded to chug as he sat down on the cushion across from Mark. He finished his drink in one go, crushing the can before discarding it somewhere behind him. It was obvious by the look on his face that he intended this to be a display of threatening strength, tho it just stuck the young cellist as piggy.

"My old man told me that I had to watch you, and I have way more important stuff to do, so you better not make this even more annoying." He spoke sullenly punctuation his speech with threatening finger pointing and such. Mark wasn't sure how to respond, but there was something about this guy that made him feel somehow less than truly in danger. At the risk of getting pummeled a bit more, he decided to speak his mind.

"Well it's not like I'm too thrilled to be continually treated like a toddler and held against my will." He said responding with equal ill humor, though he didn't voice the quip about how he was now a severely brain damaged toddler from all that shaking. One of the other guy's eyebrows raised slightly at his sardonic tone but this time he didn't move around too much. He just grabbed a handful of chips and started eating it loudly.

"You watch your mouth loser! You totally deserve to be held against your will!" he said with another jabby pointing gesture.

"And why would that be?" Mark asked, unimpressed, quirking one of his own eyebrows.

"Just," Crunch crunch, "Cuz-Cuz I dunno you're a loser. Death probably ordered it or something." He waved his hand dismissively and it dawned on Mark that this idiot basically knew as much as he did about whatever was going on behind the scenes. And while this guy was obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed, Mark caught on to a level of pride that had solidified into a chip of the highest caliber. Maybe if he asked the right questions, he could weasel out a few more answers.

"Why would Death order something like that?" Mark asked again, leaving out the "uncle" part, this guy didn't need to know. Besides, he was only related to the twin's father by marriage.

"I dunno, cuz he's a huge dick, stop asking questions or I'll punch your face off." Hm, Mark was wondering why was it that he was picking up on such huge waves of annoyance now that his Scary-Uncle-by-Marriage's name had come up.

"All I gotta say is it seems like a whole lot of people know alot of stuff that we are totally in the dark about..." Mark said with a "nonchalant" shrug.

"Who cares, I know plenty of stuff." Mark was sure that his opponent was just inches off from taking the bait. He needed words, word that were just hallucination gobeldygook to him, but had to mean something to someone there. Out of nowhere, they came to his head, something the mirror Aunt Chisa had said to the girl who was probably this dumbass's sister.

"They are having Spartoi secure the school's perimeter." To Mark, "Spartoi" could have easily been the family cat or a new kind of hemorrhoid creme, but as he spoke that name the other boy froze.

"What!" At first he was shocked, but then it morphed into something else, was that envy?, "You have got to be kidding me..." At this point he started to mumble things to himself, Mark a caught a few "no way"'s and something that certainly sounded like "taking all the good missions..." He stood up, looking pissed but it seemed his general aggression had been directed away from stolen snacks to some other imagined slight.

Mark relaxed a bit, his ploy had been moderately successful. Though it would have been nice to extract some kind of info, but Mark was just as happy to have turned someone's mind from ideas that mainly grouped around pummeling him. Now the dark haired youth whom was been previously been making Mark's life more difficult seemed to be focused on something else. He paced the small living room like a caged lion. Suddenly and without any comment, he walked right out, slamming the front door behind him.

As the sound of the door faded, a calm settled over the apartment. Mark blinked a few times, slightly amazed as a calm started to settle over his own mind. What a weird day, but he felt almost successful in finding that some of the same small skills that he possessed at home came in handy in a foreign place such as this. He took one long breath and enjoyed the silence, purposefully cutting out the fuzzy impressions of others that he felt all around. It was funny, he didn't remember having this level of control back home, though had he ever really been able to find people like that consciously either? Oh well, this silence was a gift and for this second he wasn't going to squander it with too much-

SLAM

Mark was jarred awake again by the forceful and unexpected opening of the front door. Before he could renew his bearing he looked up to see the now somewhat familiar figure of the young man that had just stormed out.

"Why the hell are you still sitting there?" He stood with his arms crossed, his chin held high, but tilted so that he could still look down with his eyes, "You coming or not!"

"Wha-" Mark trailed off, once again taken by surprise, not sure how to respond.

"Well!"

"I-"Mark looked up at the face of someone who had struck him as someone capable of nothing more than really loud temper tantrums, but there was an unexpected intensity in his eyes. Mark much preferred the safe and comfortable place he occupied, but... there was something about that look that made him feel guilty about it.

"The Demon Blade Masamune is asking if you're coming or not!" He held out his hand with a look that dared Mark to even think about saying no, "Stand up, you fucking idiot!"

Mark got to his feet, caught by surprise and thus cowed. A spilt second later he was grabbed roughly by the forearm, the Kageboshi's living room quickly disappearing behind him.


	5. Pushing off into Marianna's

"Owwwww, My arms got all stiff, did Auntie have to talk for like five million years?"

"You should know the answer to that, little sister."

"She likes to hear herself talk and want's to get back at us because we have awesome hair?"

The older of the two siblings that carried the name of a Shinigami didn't bother to to correct her younger half. Reaper was strong, but only so long as she could keep all veiled behind a curtain of jokes and misunderstanding. Though, Grim most positively knew that the reason was not any of the silly, petty things that she elected to say, life was a lot more fun when the two of them refrained from being too serious. Seriousness was for adults and Kuro.

They on the other hand chose to find entertainment in all that they met.

"Hey-hey! Griiim!~"

"Yes?"

"Do we haaave to go back to our rooms?" Reaper pouted and dragged on her arm.

"We were told it was dangerous to do otherwise. There is a wave coming quite shortly. If we don't find safety so that the grownups can protect the city. It might be a problem, Reaper."

"But-but! Griiiiimm!~ You wanna cut some stuff up right? And our teddy bears are too cute to cut up!"

"Well..."

"And-and! We are strong enough to take care of ourselves!"

"But if anyone sees us..."

"We can put on cloaks!"

"Grim that will make us more recognizable."

"They can be colorful cloaks!"

"But then it would clash with our eyes!"

"Oh no! Your'e right!" Her face fell abruptly. they really didn't want to look unstylish, even if it did make them less easy to spot in the scramble of a fight. "Ahhhh- I'm so disappointed!"

"So, we'll go back to our rooms?"

"hnnnnn..." reaper made a pouty sound, but nodded as she grasped Grim's hand and continued down the long hallway back to Shibusen proper.

"It's about lunch time anyway, you like lunch don't you?"

"Only if it's delicious." Not like the cold meal that inevitably waited for them. All personnel would be needed at the walls, no time to cook.

"But delicious or not it gives us energy to live does it not?" All students had to eat dry rations in situations like this. Though unlike everyone else, their quarters did not posses any kind of unhealthy but appetizing dry goods, just a bunch of dried fruit and energy bars, such was the problem with attending a boarding school that was also your family home.

"..."

"Right?"

"Griiiiiiiimmmmmmmm..."

"What is it?"

"BUT WHATS THE POINT OF LIVING IF EVERYTHING IS SO BORING!?" Reaper's outburst echoed down the hall. Louder than Grim thought would have been necessary to get her attention.

"Now Reaper-" she began in a calming tone, sure she didn't like the idea of not fighting for the sake of her home, but orders were orders right?

"-THERE ISN'T A DAMN POINT IS WHAT!", The voice that echoed from the hallway behind her gave Grim a shock, not just due to it's unexpected nature, a bit of color rushed to her cheeks and as if they had a mind of they're own her lips clamped themselves shut.

"-DAMN STRAIGHT!" She could feel her sister's grip loosen as she yelled in reply and ran toward a branch in the hallway, the one that lead to the teacher's dormitories. "Hey Masa! and- EEEeeeeEEe You found Markie!"

...

"Heh. Markie. So that's your name." There was no need to explain how Masamune's voice sounded there. As they left the apartment there had been only a short bout of jogging until the beginnings of one of reapers legendary tantrums were echoing their way. It had been a bit of a surprise when Masamune stopped in his tracks and yelled back. It wasn't like it had been any unnatural feat to hear, but stopping to attend to random tantrum throwers was not usually what one who was focused on something important often did. (Because, you know, there was some undoubtedly important and complex action they were supposed to be taking care of here. Something to do with the safety of this fucking ridiculous demon school. But whatever sure, they could stop for a bit and shoot the breeze with his cousins, that was probably fine. Whatever, it's not like there had been this implicit promise of awesome cool adventure-like things.)

"It sure is his name now! Don't you think it will make a good one?" Reaper was suddenly all smiles.(Something to that attending to tantrum throwers thing? Nah, probably just the feeding off of his discomfort like always.)

"You have never called me Markie in your entire life-" Mark responded with the first and most reasonable thing that came to his head, at least there was no need to keep from being blunt around these people.

"What no way, you've got to be more creative! Like like uhhhh Chicken McFeatherface! Or ummm Loser McLosersauce! You know, something really descriptive!"

"Oh yeah we got a couple of regular Shakespeares around here... "Mark mumbled as his eyes narrowed into a deep scowl. He focused it on Reaper and noticed with slight relief that her expression waned. A good glare was only thing he'd found could get the younger of the twins to back off. It had no effect on her sister though, this was convenient considering she wasn't there. Though her absence was a bit concerning in its own right.

"W-well it just made sense you know! Now that you're standing next to someone that is manlier than you! Your name just required a mandatory demotion!"

"Haha, yeah! A demotion! Cuz you're hanging with me! Oh hey maybe it can he something like Skinny McNoabbs! Way better than your old name right buddy!?" Mark was suddenly whacked on the shoulder, he suppressed the cough it elicited, wondering how he went from anything/whatever he had been to "buddy" though it was probably just another ploy to devitalize his self confidence, like talking to a kid or something.

"Nonono! I said DEMOTION not PROMOTION! You're so dumb Masa!", Oh yes, Skinny McNoabs was really quite the promotion, Mark would have to take a moment with how completely blessed he was to be gifted with such a name.

"OH YEAH LIKE YOU COULD TELL THE DIFFERENCE!"

"I JUST SAID THAT I COULD!"

Mark doubted either really had any idea what they were talking about, but as they started to devolve into a shouting match, Mark took a moment to gauge his surroundings. Ah, that's where Grim was, not too far just at the end of the hall. Probably avoiding all this dumb stuff like he wanted to, or planning the murder of them all, it was hard to say.

But the next thing he noticed was truly strange. Other than the four of them, all life signs could have been erased, the dead-sort-of feeling sent sudden shivers down his spine.

He was struck with a memory of a dumb marine biology class he'd taken in middle school, the ocean was the most diverse and alive place in the world. But, even then there were only a few places that sustained the life that could be studied and understood, the fish and the coral and the dolphins. Food and Jewelry and cute creatures that you saw at zoos. The rest was so deep, so vast, that there was no way that it could be explored, and even though science was pretty sure that things lived out there, it was all still a mystery. His teacher had had a picture that she liked to show to incite shock, an aerial view of the deepest trench on earth; tropical seas the color of an eggshell fading into endless, navy darkness. Mark had hated that class.

He put a hand over his mouth, the little bit of hall that they occupied was starting to feel like his hyper-pressurized submarine. The silent pressure from the outside was both immensely strong and completely undefined, like there was some sort of substance between himself and the geography of what there was to be seen. He lifted his eyes, scrabbling at the physical world for answers, and a lump lodged itself in his throat as he could see it, as dark haze around each and every one of them, clinging, concealing. He took a breath and caught a whiff of something, or at least that's what it felt like but somehow he knew the smell wasn't real. Just the way his brain was giving him a clue. What was it? He smelled something rotting leaves, anise, cardamom, jasmine, something flowery and sharp, (maybe lavender) and what was that smell-Cherry Cola? It only took a split moment for that to bring back the memory of just an hour before... Angela? He opened his eyes and looked around once more at the fog covering everything. It was thick and opaque, it threw Mark into deeper blindness and that made him want to squirm, but in that moment he realized it's purpose. It was a veil of protection.

"YOU BIG DUMBDUMBDUMBDUMBDUMBFACE!"

"LOUDMOUTHED BITCH!"

The voices of his impromptu companions caught his ear even tighter now, the aura around them was one of clarity, sharp, bright bits of aggressive intent. Harmless, but so, so bright. So, so obvious. So loud.

"You two!" It started as a whooshing, just on the periphery of all sound, but in the time it took him to cross the hall, it had burst into a million inhuman hisses, in the time that it took him to tackle the both of them, the hallway's walls had already begun to leak a black, foul-smelling substance. All began to realize just moments too late.

"Grim!" Reaper's suddenly genuine yelp echoes down the hall. "It's come back!"

The the concealing fog around them began to disperse, giving way to millions of blood red eyes, pressing in on his every side. The physical and mental began to melt into one as Mark felt his mind being lost to their unholy pulse. Tears streamed from his eyes, morphing into creatures that tangled about his limbs, paralyzing him. He tried to rip them away before he realized they they were his own veins

_"help..."_ was the only coherent thought he could manage as his weak barriers crumbled.

_"Help?" _Masamune's voice cut right through the noise._ "Who the fuck needs help!?" _In that spit second of clarity Mark caught his breath, in arm's reach, he could see the hilt of a Japanese sword poking out of the madness, the fibers of its woven hilt an ostentatious red. It was kind of an odd sensation to know you were talking to a human being but also be entirely sure that they were sword. It was getting a bit old to call it a hallucination though.

_"I sure don't, you selfish asshole."_

"_JUST STOP BEING A PANSY AND FIGHT ALREADY!"_


End file.
